


Where You've Been

by relic_amaranth



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Depression mention, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Not Really Character Death, Other, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 11:52:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13833708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/relic_amaranth/pseuds/relic_amaranth
Summary: Lucifer killed Gabriel and you find yourself going through the motions. Until the motions become that much easier to ride. You never thought you’d want to strangle your guardian angel but Gabriel is talented like that.





	Where You've Been

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Look. I have a lot of feelings about Gabriel. Almost all of them involve wrapping him up in a blanket and holding him where no one can ever hurt him again. Until I can make that a satisfactory fanfic (and I will; I have ideas) I will write whatever I can with him because /frantic hand flapping/.

 

You’re covered in blood and running out of a house as the fire you set starts to take. You end up stumbling out of the doors, coughing through the smoke and rolling away as you can feel the heat creeping at your back. Once you’ve got your bearings you stand up to admire your work, and it’s minutes later in front of an inferno that you realize you should probably get the fuck out of dodge.

Still, it’s an impressive job for a solo hunter– five angry spirits with remains strewn all over the fucking place and real dead set (hah) against you setting their home on fire. And yet you had somehow done it. Bobby’s going to be frothing at the mouth when he hears about it but you can’t find it in yourself to care. You don’t really care about much anymore, to be honest.

 

_“Look, sugar, just keep your head down and try to ride this out. I’ll be back in a week and we’ll go to the most secluded beach I know of.”_

_“Gabriel, we’ve talked about this before. It’s the apocalypse and I’m a hunter; I’m not going to stop when things are at their worst.”_

_“Yeah well, we’ll talk about it more when I get back. Just…humor me and keep your head down? For just a week, I swear.”_

_“…Fine.”_

_“And look at something scandalous for tropical clime?”_

_“Gabriel.”_

 

After two weeks had come and gone you’d set out yourself. You had only been a little worried– Gabriel had been on the run from Heaven for longer than you could trace your family history. Even when you had found the Winchesters and badgered the story out of them you didn’t believe he was really dead, no matter how much they believed it or got their angel to back them up. Gabriel must have faked his death hundreds of times over.

But you had gone to that wretched, decrepit dump and seen the scorch marks. And it had hit you– Lucifer had been so close to him (that rat fucking _bastard_ ) that he wouldn’t have been easily fooled. If he was alive Gabriel would have freaked out after that encounter, come back and whisked you away, whether you were ready or not.

Gabriel is gone. It’s a thing you have to remind yourself a lot, these days. It’s only been a couple of weeks since then, a month since you last saw him, and sometimes the days draw on forever and sometimes they blur together. Both hurt equally. You never thought you’d be this gone on anyone, and yet here you are, stumbling away from a house you’ve just set on fire and _hoped_ you could get out of on time. It’s more reckless than you’ve ever been. You shrug. Can’t argue the results though.

A primal scream makes you whirl around in time to see the flaming visage of one of the ghosts racing up to you. There’s no time to get out of the way but you barely stumble back when the spirit suddenly erupts in a burst of white light and…

“Gabriel?” you breathe and look around. But of course, there’s nothing there but an empty field and house on fire. The wind starts to blow– thankfully pulling the fire away from you– and you resume your walk back to the car.

 

 

You’re sitting in a bar when you hear two familiar voices and you look up in time to see Dean and Sam look in your direction. They glare and wince, respectively. Dean’s nose seems to have healed up in the short amount of time since you last saw him but the guy can hold a grudge. You maintain eye contact and bring your drink up for a sip, and watch them argue for a bit before Dean defiantly goes over to the pool tables and Sam goes over to the other end of the bar. You go back to staring at your drink.  
  


_“Leave me alone, Dean. I don’t have to explain shit to you.”_

_“How can you be this upset? Gabriel was an asshole.”_

 

The crack of Dean’s face was so loud it would have filled the room, if his howl of pain hadn’t already done it. Still, once you had gotten over the gross sobbing portion of your evening you had felt a little bad. Dean’s a decent guy and he and Sam have helped you out a few times, and Dean’s far from the only person with some rightful beef with Gabriel. Still.

You catch Sam looking at you like he wants to come over. It’s a nice gesture, but you shake your head and smile weakly. He nods and takes two drinks over to where Dean is sidling up next to some cute young thing who could not look less interested. You roll your eyes and face forward again when the bartender chuckles.

“That poor guy,” she says and leans on her elbows.

She’s looking over at where Dean is so you sit up a little and see him still flirting despite the girl’s body language being neon ‘Do Not Want’. You frown. “Normally he can take a hint,” you say and get ready to intervene.

“Friend of yours?” the bartender asks.

“Most of the time.” You glance at Dean, all swagger, and Sam, rolling his eyes. “He’s being a jerk right now.”

“Hmm.” Her mouth curls into a smile and she winks at you. “Then enjoy the show. Don’t worry about her; she can take care of herself.”

You see it when Dean gets too close– the woman takes her cue, smiles sweetly at him, and then _rams_ the bumper end up into his groin. Even from a distance you can see Dean’s eyes water and his mouth is open in a silent scream.

The sound that comes out of your mouth is _not_ a giggle. It’s not. Except that maybe it is, and you have to turn and put your head in your arms before Dean sees you and this rift in your relationship becomes irreparable. In front of you is a glass of water and some aspirin. You’re not that drunk that you need the aspirin, nor are you the type of person to just take some pills, no matter how nice the bartender is, but she’s down at the other end and she nods at the stuff before going back to another customer. You pocket the pills to be polite but you do drink the water.

You leave your money under the empty glass and turn to leave, but as you skim the crowd you catch a glimpse of eyes that glint golden in the light. Despite this not being the first time, your breath catches and you scan the crowd on reflex, hoping. But like every other time, there’s nothing there. Wishful thinking and too much liquor. You pull your jacket close and brace for the cold walk back to your motel room.

 

 

The town you’re in is having some sort of…festival? Celebration? Admittedly you’re a little distracted. The last several days have been _weird_. And that’s weirdness that has been adding onto other weirdness. A few days ago you had arrived to a vampire nest to find that it was at least three times as large as you had been lead to believe. But that hadn’t been a problem because all of the vampires were dead. Not disposed of, but definitely separated from their heads. You had taken care of the bodies and moved on to some witches that were giving an acquaintance of yours some trouble. And they had been a nuisance, up until one of the witches, going to stab you, had frozen at just the right moment, allowing you to shoot her right in the heart.

Your hunts have been easy. Clean. Since that one ghost had hurtled at you like a fireball you haven’t really had any close calls, no matter how dangerous the job. (Bobby only ever gives you milk runs anymore, the crotchety overprotective old bastard, so you’ve been getting your info and backup elsewhere.) You’ve caught more than your fair share of green lights. Even the one time you got pulled over after a clean-up done poorly the cop had come up to your window, looked confused, and then told you that you had a busted taillight please just get it fixed whenever you drive safely now. You had almost melted into the seat when he’d left without noticing the shotgun on your backseat floor. Things are almost… _easy_ now, and you could swear you’ve seen Gabriel’s eyes or figure in passing, but you saw the marks at the hotel, his wings, how could–

A plush arm juts out in front of you and you snap your head up to see a group of cars race through the intersection you had almost accidentally stepped into. _Shit_ , you think, shaking a bit at just how close a call that had been, and wouldn’t that be hilarious that after the demons and vampires and monsters that a two-ton speeding metal frame would be the thing that ends it all.

You look at your savior and blink. A…bear stares blankly at you. Er, a bear-suited person, with a yellow sash across its chest. “Uh…thanks,” you say, because they did save your life.

“You should really watch where you’re going!” says some guy’s goofy voice and he waves an exaggerated shaming paw at you.

“I will,” you say but before you can beg off he wraps an arm behind you and drags you in front of a group of parents and young children. Bob the Safety Bear proceeds to use you as an example and in the end you’re burning with embarrassment and the kids and parents are all laughing as they disperse. You huff and decide not to kill him because if you’re going to go to jail for murder, you’d prefer your victim deserve it for more than just a safety lecture.

“Here!” A Tootsie Pop is thrust into your face and you reflexively grab the treat ‘Bob’ has given you. He pushes his big dumb bear head into your face and won't drop the cartoon voice. “Thanks for being such a good sport today!”

“Right. No problem,” you say through gritted teeth and watch him prance away. You look down at the lollypop in your hand and, despite everything, you smile. Some minor humiliation and one of Gabriel’s favorite treats afterwards? Your angel would have been in his own personal heaven. You unwrap it, pop it into your mouth, and remember the kisses that tasted like this. Your chest doesn’t hurt as much.

 

 

You try to check into a motel just for a bed to sleep in on your way to another town but the place is booked full. As is the next one. And there’s no decent place to pull off and just sleep in the car; the town is full of bored-looking cops. Out of frustration you go to the cheapest-looking hotel you can find. They’re undergoing minor renovations so the rooms are all discounted to very reasonable levels, and the room you get is incredibly nice.

It’s too much. The monsters and witches barely laying a hand on you, Dean getting his, and now exactly the kind of room you would have lounged in with Gabriel in between hunts. Not to mention seeing some flash of him almost everywhere you go. There’s no such thing as this much coincidence and it’s all in the real world so you know you’re not losing your mind.

But you are pissed. Because if Gabriel can dig his hand this much into your life then why isn’t he _here_? Why hasn’t he shown up to show you that he’s fine? You stomp towards the bathroom, stop just outside it, shout, “You are such an _asshole_!” and resume your storming, slamming the door because you know he’ll hear it.

When you come back out, clean and calmer, there’s a pint of your favorite ice cream– still frozen– sitting on the table. The bastard’s not even trying anymore and yet you see neither hide nor hair of him. It’s probably safer that way– Lucifer didn’t kill him but at this point you can’t promise you won’t.

 

 

“Where are they?” the demon growls and drags his knife in a shallow line just under your clavicle. Amateur; you’ve had paper cuts that hurt more than this. However he and his friends have worked you over pretty good before this so you’re enjoying the reprieve. Trying to breathe with a busted nose and bruised (hopefully just) ribs is an adventure and a half. You feel a little bad for what you did to Dean now. Just a little. However you hope he can appreciate you staying quiet as he and Sam try to make their getaway from Lucifer’s little posse.

The door at the top of the basement stairs slams open. “They’re escaping to the highway!”

“Get someone out there now!” the guy in front of you snaps and the other demon vanishes. Your knife wielding friend yanks your head back by the hair and points the tip of the blade at your neck. “Guess we don’t need you anymore.”

You shut your eyes and pray one more time. _Hope you’re good enough to sneak in and visit me in heaven. Or hell. Wherever I’m going_.

“Aw sugar; you’re not going anywhere.”

Despite your (completely, utterly justified) anger, you can’t deny how relieved you feel to finally hear Gabriel’s voice in person again. When you open your eyes the demon is frozen in place, judging by the way his eyes, wide with panic, are the only parts of him that can move. Gabriel stands behind and off to the side.

“Were you just waiting for a dramatic entrance?” you murmur, your lips curling into a smile. “I would’ve gotten myself tortured ages ago if I’d have known.”

Gabriel rolls his eyes and when he snaps the demon just disappears, no fanfare. Unfortunately, much like the knife that clatters to the floor, there’s nothing left holding you up, so you start to fall. Gabriel’s there to catch you though, and as soon as he touches you your body is pulled back together. You suck in a deep breath of air and lean against him.

“I was just waiting for a moment when you weren’t so ready to kill me,” he admits, still holding you.

You grip his shoulders. “I’m still mad at you. I thought you were _dead_ you fucking asshole.”

“What, you didn’t like having a guardian angel watching over you?”

You snort at the exaggerated innocence in his tone. You sit back and see him, hale and whole. You try not to smile. You fail. “I prefer my angels a little more…hands-on.”

Gabriel smirks and his eyebrows move up as he leans in. You wait until he is _just_ to your lips before you press a finger to his. “But first, we’ve got a job to do.”

Gabriel slumps, rolls his eyes more than once, and shrugs himself to his feet with all the grace of a ten year old having a tantrum. “ _Fine_ ,” he says in a tone equal to that and extends his hand to you. “Let’s go save your dumb friends. But we are _so_ picking this back up later.”

“Sweetheart, when this ‘apocalypse’ nonsense is done with, I’m letting you pick out the swimsuit for that beach vacation you promised me,” you say and let him help you up.

He pulls you in close, waggles his eyebrows, and sneaks a quick kiss before he snaps his fingers.


End file.
